Last Moments
by lostloveloki
Summary: When Tony's time is up and Loki remembers.


Loki slouched through the city, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, as he carried around his deadened heart. Though he walked through the same streets in which he'd caused such severe damage decades ago, he didn't bother using a spell to disguise himself from the masses who all knew his face, first as destructor, and second as the lover of their mightiest superhero. He simply didn't care anymore. Let them all see him. Let them shout abuse, let them hate, let them beat him if they wanted to. He didn't care anymore. It simply didn't matter. The time for schemes was over; the time for games was past. He desired nothing anymore. The only thing he wanted was to have Stark alive again.

He controlled his features nearly to the best of his abilities, for once not having perfect control over himself. The pain was so numbing that he lowered his expectations to simply not looking like the dead corpse, that his loved one was now. He walked through the rainy streets, staring down at the litter and dirt, simply remembering. Remembering everything: Everything they'd gone through together. All their highs and lows, their love, their fights, their anger, the way they would make up after all the drama was drained away… Everything kept swirling around in his distraught, broken mind. He would never be granted peace. Never.

He glanced up, as the rain struck his face gently, caressing him like Tony used to. In the distance, Stark Tower gleamed unperturbed by the misery and agony, simply being a tranquil beacon of light in this miserable, hollow, and hopeless world. Yet there it was, hope and light, everything Tony had been to Loki. His gaze didn't waver away from Stark Tower, as a minute smile crept onto his lips as he remembered that first time, during the Chitauri invasion. Their first spar of words, their first battle of wits, and the first time he'd defenestrated Stark. That instant attraction that had later compelled Loki to return to Stark tower. That arrogant grin that Tony had sported, and that sheer self-confidence as he'd conversed with- no, _threatened-_ Loki. How adamant he'd been, how very Tony...

Loki felt stabbing pang in his chest. Clenching his teeth together, he tried to will it away, unsuccessfully. H-h-he didn't want to feel. He wanted everything to go away. Go away forever.

Of course this wasn't the the first time he'd lost creatures he loves, after all had he not lost his sons? His home? Had he not lost everything in his life, once before? And yet this time it was so different. So much worse in a way, and yet the mere comparison made him feel guilty. Why hadn't he mourned this much when his own flesh and blood had passed, or had he simply not felt pain in such a long time, that this suddenly felt far worse?

He'd known from the very beginning that Anthony was but a mere mortal. He'd known that so very well. He'd known their time together had an expiration date stamped upon it, although he'd always done his best to ignore that simple truth. Though they'd spent decades together on Midgard, which according to Tony had been a very long time, to Loki… it had all been so extremely short compared to the eternity that awaited him. So grievously short.

With age Tony's health had declined, and his liver had finally given up. Years of alcohol abuse had slowly weakened him physically, to such a degree that even his bravado had slowly worn off. Tony was chained onto multiple machines, all fighting towards keeping the former hero, the world's greatest genius, alive for just a little longer.

The others, Barton, Romanoff, Banner, Rogers, even Thor, had come to the hospital, but all of them remained young an unaltered, as being lab-rats, or a god, kept you fit for eternity. But Tony, the only man whose achievements had purely been by the merits of his intellect, was withering away. His intellect had been unable to save his cracking, ageing body.

As Tony sensed his time had come, he'd sent all of them away, not wanting them to see him croak his last. Yet he couldn't send one person away. The only balm to his anguish. Loki had to stay.

The wrinkled hand of death had reached out for the demi-god's pale hand weakly, and squeezed it.

"Loki…" he muttered.

"Stop it, Tony. Save your words for when you're better," Loki breathed as he'd tenderly stroked Tony's wrinkled cheek.

"You know I won't make it," Tony had rasped softly, his eyes warm, and loving.

"Don't say things like that, or I'll kill you," Loki had whispered half-heartedly, as he'd helped Tony take a sip of water.

"You won't have to bother; I'm dying either way…" he had chuckled softly.

"Tony-"

"No, Loki. It's true. But…" Tony had looked away at that moment, up at that dreadful heart-rate monitor that the hospital had insisted on keeping locked up to him

"But what?" Loki's eyes had begun watering, though he had tried to keep his face a mask. He blinked the tears away rapidly, while Tony had looked away.

"My arc-reactor will run for hundreds of years. Keep it. Please." Tony had sighed, before he looked back at his emotional lover.

"Listen-," Loki'd begun angrily. Death, loss and pain were the last things he wanted to think about in his state of endless denial.

"No Loki. The time for listening is over for me. I love you, Loki. Just do as I tell you. Please." Tony smiled bravely, though his lips trembled with emotion.

Loki said nothing for a long time, looking away. But after what seemed like hours, though only being minutes, Loki replied, "I love you too, Tony. But-"

"No but. Loki…" Tony had breathed, looking straight into Loki's eyes, but his mouth fell slack, and his eyes lost focus, as the machines beeped their last.

Loki looked away from Stark tower and reached into his pocket. First, he pulled out the red-rose he'd stolen from Tony's funeral wreath, and then he drew out the brilliant blue arc-reactor.

"At least I still have your warm glow…"


End file.
